


like the first morning

by wisdomeagle



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Community: femslash_today, F/F, Magic, POV Second Person, Prose Poem, Stream of Consciousness, and they lived happily ever after the end
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-01-09
Updated: 2008-01-09
Packaged: 2018-02-10 12:22:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 252
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2024985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wisdomeagle/pseuds/wisdomeagle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Colors (rainbow girls unbroken yet).</p>
            </blockquote>





	like the first morning

(whisper) Willow

red's your cheeks (blush) and your hair, tangled, red's your skin bright blazing with want, red's your heart (last spring you were a pastel schoolgirl, all his, and now you're fire, and mine), red's dissolving, orange into gold, the last light of summer into the first haze of autumn as the days even out and at equinox, you come (laugh) for the first time (after a thousand others), all my own, and your kisses are like stars -- burning, and bright, far-away, and coming-home.

(cast) spells happen when we don't expect them, magic's not control, it's learning (will you ever know this?), truth, not falling. Magic happens, and blue and green are spells, once stuttered and cast with intention, now sizzling between us, desire (desire) (desire). It rolls and rolls away, what's ours, that longing, and long after the last giggle dies unvoiced in my throat, exhausted, I find your fingers wrapped around mine, tight with wedding-band promise, with your secret fearlessness.

(wake) in the golden autumn sunrise, studying undone, last night's magical detritus still dusting the floor with work to do. Your face in this sunlight is innocent, and when you roll into a sleepy kiss I reach without thinking beneath the sheets, find the trail of last night's kisses that lead me back to you, and your halfsmile halfmoan is buried between my lips before you can finish thinking morning.

(whisper), then, I love you.

Sleepy, "And tomorrow?"

Your breasts are cream and scarlet, flecked with freckles. "No. Forever."


End file.
